


Polonium

by Gertika



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Kevin is a mess, Kevin-centric, M/M, Minor Injuries, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gertika/pseuds/Gertika
Summary: About a broken heart and a mirror.
Relationships: Nico Hulkenberg/Kevin Magnussen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Polonium

He’s sitting on a stool in his kitchen, tweezers in his non-dominant hand, brows furrowed. He has to start somewhere and getting the shards of glass out of his knuckles seems like as good a place as any. He bites the inside of his cheek as a particularly stubborn, or just large, piece refuses to unlodge itself from between his middle and ring finger knuckles. He feels pathetic with his emergency kit spread out across the counter but he has to do this himself, he’s not going to the hospital with this. That would be even more pitiful.

It has been months now since that saturday night in Abu Dhabi. He knew they hadn’t been perfect, that he hadn’t been perfect and he knew Nico’s contract was done with no seat for the next year but he still hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t wanted to, he supposes in hindsight. Nico had been so calm about it, of course he had. He’d had time to deal with it, come to terms with it being over. He also had his own hotel room at a different hotel to retreat to if and when this didn’t go well. It had still shattered Kevin to bits.

Nico had said the words, they were so final and of course his first reaction had been anger. Disbelief and anger. They both knew it hadn’t been just a weekend hook up, it had gone on for too long and the quiet whispers at 4am on Monday mornings had been too telling. He never wanted to be the kind of person to get into a screaming match in a hotel room but his emotions had taken over. He had screamed until his voice had given out and Nico had stood there, expressionless. 

After everything, it was over and they would never have it all ever again. He had fallen on the floor and cried and Nico had whispered an apology before leaving. The click of the hotel room door echoing in his head as he had sobbed on the floor.

He had run off to London from Abu Dhabi, a place where he could pretend like his heart wasn’t broken, like he hadn't ruined the one good thing he had. Again. He knew he should have tried harder, been better, Nico wouldn’t have left him if he had just been better, more open, more present. London at least didn’t remind him of Nico. He knew he was living a temporary distraction but as long as it worked he had thought.

***

Christmas eve he was sitting in traffic on the highway, festive songs on the radio and Elsa laying on her dog bed on the passenger seat.  _ Driving home for Christmas _ was playing and he recorded what he would have at the time described as a fun little video about their day but how did that idea punish him right away. He had been busy, how could he have known? He had posted it and nearly right away people were pointing out how funny it was that him and Nico had posted such similar videos.

Of course he watched Nico’s video. Multiple times right there in traffic. It was filmed by someone else in the car, which made Kevin’s stomach do an angry flip he had no right to anymore. Nico was holding his small dog in one hand and steering the Rolls Royce with the other. Kevin would have been lying if he had said the Christmas glasses on Nico’s face didn’t make him smile. First in genuine happiness for the older man but soon the smile had turned empty. He didn’t have any right to this either. He turned his phone off and threw it to the back seat, focusing his attention back to the Christmas traffic and scratching behind Elsa’s ear. 

His mother had known something was wrong, of course she had. She didn’t ask, she knew better than to question her son about his relationships. Kevin noticed how she carefully went through extra steps to make the holidays easier for him. How there were a few extra pillows in the bed he slept on back home and how she had packaged all his favorite leftovers separately. How she didn’t leave him alone in his thoughts in the evening even if she was tired and made sure to wake up before him for breakfast. 

When he left his family to go back to his own house he hugged his mother, whispering her a thank you so full of sorrow and his mother had held his face with a sad smile and whispered in reply that it would all be okay eventually. Kevin stopped on his drive home on a bus stop to cry. He was thankful Elsa was sleeping peacefully next to him as he sobbed into a scarf in his car by a road nobody was driving on, the radio was playing _Promises_ by Calvin Harris and Sam Smith and that made it all so much worse. Memories of Nico singing along to the song, eyes on him in some dark club in Italy in September. In mid-January he saw pictures of his team mate off in Dakar, with Nico and a bunch of other people. He had to fight every bone in his body to not call Romain and ask about Nico, how he’s doing.

***

He still doesn’t sleep well in hotels by himself. Barcelona is lonely in the dark of his hotel room. He lays in his bed most of his free time, TV playing whatever’s on. He had asked for a weighted blanket to help. Nico’s in Brazil, having the time of his life, while Kevin’s alone in a hotel room that feels the size of a plane hangar and he’s all alone. Barcelona has never felt so cold before.

People around track keep commenting on the absence of his “long time rival” and he doesn’t know how to react. None of them have any idea how hurt he is, they think he’s happy to have no rival left. Out survived them or something. He’s in his bed at 6pm with his eyes closed, wishing he didn’t miss Nico so much. Not only because he loves him but who is he now going to aim to beat? He has no “rival” to compare to. He turns to his side and holds one of the extra pillows close to his chest and buries his face in the smell of clean cotton. He gave up on social media after seeing the third video from Rio, it hurt too much so now his phone lives on the table across the room. There’s nothing there that’s important anyway.

Australia got cancelled too late for anyone’s liking but the stream of cancellations and postponements coming in at such a rapid rate in the following days still catches him off guard. For a moment it looks like Monaco will start the season and the genuine dread fills his heart. That’s the one race Nico surely would be at isn’t it. Kevin runs his hand through his hair for what he feels like is the hundredth time. Nobody wants to see Monaco cancelled but then it happens. The biggest race of the year is off and above anything else, he feels relieved. It’s been months and he can’t bear the thought of seeing Nico again. He’s not strong enough.

***

He knows it’s his fault, who else would be at fault? He has ruined every important relationship in his life, almost like he’s doing it on purpose. Sometimes he wishes he was. He’s staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He doesn’t remember what he looked like before, probably happier but he wouldn’t know. He’s stopped crying at some point, nothing’s getting reactions out of him anymore. His mother called, told him she’s sending over some of her food. She always had good intuition about these things. He stares into his own eyes in the mirror.

If he had thought about it a little more he probably wouldn’t have punched the mirror. His knuckles bleeding he stares at his reflection in the shards on the counter. He can feel the tears pricking the corner of his eye. He grabs a towel from the shelf and backs out from the bathroom slowly, tries to not drag pieces of glass back with him. He wraps his bleeding hand in the towel and sits down on the couch. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. The tears make their way down his temples. Maybe this is just how it is now, he will just have to live with the fact that he found the one and fucked it up. The house is quiet. He’s going to need to buy a new mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been AGES since I published any of my writing anywhere. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my friend for dealing with my nonsense when I was writing it and then helping me make it make more sense, I'm sure I was unbearable. This was vaguely inspired by Taylor Swift's Archer and a bunch of social media posts from the winter break.
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well and if not I hope things are better soon!


End file.
